Drunk Driving Can be Good, After All
by Visione Tempesta
Summary: Renji, when drunk, has a shunpo accident he won't be forgetting anytime soon. RenRuki; oneshot. Rated T for language.


Hi everyone! It's my first fic here, although this is basically the same one I put in my LJ a few months back, although it actually has a TITLE now...anyway, enjoy! (:

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach; Tite Kubo-sensei does. I wish I owned Grimmjow and Ulqui-kun though.  
Rated T for Renji's mouth (and then some, I think.)

Read and review, yeah?

* * *

It was Christmas Day, and most of the Shinigami were celebrating. (Which was rather strange, since they were Japanese. But that wasn't the point.)

On the other hand, Kuchiki Rukia sat alone on the hard wooden stool in her prison cell. Outside, the snow fell in soft white flakes, blanketing Seireitei in shimmering white.

White, just like her sword. Her precious sword that now lay confiscated, out of her reach. Rukia sighed and bit her lip. Well, she was used to loneliness, what with being an adopted orphan and all, but seeing everyone celebrating so happily just outside the window...

Merry Christmas, Rukia said sadly to the four stark white walls.

In the Eleventh Division headquarters, however, it was a different story. A very different story.

"C'mon Renji, jus' have 'nuther..." Ikkaku, half-naked and very drunk, was slumped over the table with the thirteenth -or was it the fourteenth?-bottle of sake in a hand, staring groggily at his leaving mate. A bunch of Eleventh officers had earlier invited some of them over for a Christmas party, i.e. a raucous, wild overloading-on-sake session of the type that would land most of them either in the infirmary or in hot soup with their captains (most of the time, it was the latter.) And after discovering that Zaraki-taichou not only had a secret store of fine, strong sake, but also that it happened to be a very, very big one, the situation had spiraled quickly out of control.

Now the place reeked sickeningly of alcohol and sweat and vomit, more than one shinigami had already passed out on the couch, and the general atmosphere wasn't helping Renji's throbbing, fuzzy head in the least. (Neither was the prospect of what Zaraki Kenpachi would have to say when he came back from his captains' function.) He could feel bitter bile rising in his throat, and he was sure his face had long turned redder than his crimson pineapple of a ponytail. Lovely.

He needed fresh air, desperately. "Later, okay, guys?" Renji stumbled out into the snow, gulping in the cold air as the buildings started to swirl dizzyingly around and around and around and then back again. He turned and headed slowly home, suppressing the nausea.

Goddamnit. Renji turned around at the fuzzy voice, narrowed his eyes. Yup, it was Ikkaku and company all right, yelling their asses off, coming shakily toward him in the snow. He blinked back into alertness and flash stepped away.

Of course, owning to his state of mind at the time, he couldn't really make sense of where the hell he was going. So it came as rather a surprise when his concentration broke suddenly and he found himself in a heap on a floor somewhere, staring up at Rukia.

Wait. Rukia? Oh bloody FUCK, Renji thought, before valiantly trying his very best to salvage the situation.

"What the hell? I'm so sorry, Rukia! Look, I didn't even know shunpo could work that way, okay? I was just, like, drunk, and Ikkaku and this bunch of madmen were chasing me, you know, and then I shunpoed away, and then everything started swirling and I ended up dropping here somehow. Yeah. I'll, uh, go on my way now- oh. Shit." He realised, amazed, that he'd actually managed to fall out of the sky, or wherever the hell he had been, and land right in the middle of his brother's sister's freaking prison cell.

"Oh, no, that's okay, Renji. I was kind of hoping for a little company, you know, but it's fine if you've got somewhere to go..."

He'd love that, actually. Especially since it was Rukia he was talking to here. But then again, he was really, really drunk, so he reminded himself that he seriously needed to go back and get a cold shower before he threw up all over Rukia's cell floor. He backed off. "Um, yeah, actually... well, I just, uh, remembered some paperwork I had to hand in, you know, to my taichou. See ya around, then!"

As Renji walked off, even as drunk as he was, he couldn't help but think of the disappointed look on Rukia's face.

Three hours later, after a good vomiting session, a cold shower, and two aspirins, Renji made his way back to Rukia's cell with a basket over one shoulder. He got let in, and went over and tapped her on the shoulder. "Hey, Rukia. Thought you might like some Christmas food."

Rukia turned around "What...for me?"

"Yeah. Well, I noticed that you looked pretty, uh, emo just now, so I just wanted to share the Christmas spirit a little. Anyway, spending time with you definitely beats having to listen to Ikkaku and Iba and the rest of the crazy drunk bunch sing 'Silent Night' in croaky off-key falsettos..."

"Thanks, Renji. Thanks so much." A few shining tears suddenly gathered at the corners of Rukia's eyes, made translucent spots on her white hakama.

Renji didn't say anything. Even though it wasn't typically something he did, he reached down and pulled Rukia into a close hug. She snuggled against his chest, staring lovingly up into his eyes as he bent down and brushed his lips with hers softly.

"Merry Christmas, Rukia."


End file.
